


Setting the Record Straight

by emeraldswan



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 23:43:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldswan/pseuds/emeraldswan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: There comes a time in every relationship that one feels the need to make sure the other person knows something. Whether this something is earth shattering in and of itself or not, the need for it to be expressed is there. Ten and Rose are no exception: Sometimes they need to make sure the other understands something. It's just that simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Setting the Record Straight

Title: Setting the Record Straight  
Take: One  
Fandom: Doctor Who  
Pairing: Rose/10 (sorta)  
Rating: General  
Disclaimer: I do not own anything remotely related to Doctor Who and I seek no profit from the writing or posting of this story.

* * *

"It wasn't me."

Lost in his thoughts, he almost missed her softly spoken words. "Pardon?"

"It wasn't me. Kissin' you, back at the hospital."

Oh, that. Right. The Doctor turned his head to Rose, and nodded quickly from where he was sitting. "Of course it wasn't. Knew it wasn't you all along. Well, perhaps not straightaway, but I figured it out, didn't I? 'Twas Cassandra."

He didn't tell her exactly how long it took him to figure out it _wasn't_ her. Oh, he knew something was off about her, but he didn't know she was someone else entirely until . . . oh, well, a few minutes after the kiss at least. Too long, in his opinion. His Rose needed looking after better than that. His Rose . . . why was she still staring at him? "What?"

She shook her head, the look in her eyes telling him he wasn't understanding something. "It wasn't me. I was there, right there inside, but it was _her_ doing the drivin', wasn't it? Our first kiss and I could barely feel a thing!"

The Doctor had a second to wonder why that apparently bothered her so much, to wonder if he should tell her that it hadn't actually been their first kiss when Rose was suddenly standing in front of him, leaning down and in. Oh, this could be bad. Very bad. Or it could be good, perhaps, depending on how one looked at the situation. Perhaps even very good. The trouble was, the Doctor wasn't sure which way he wanted to look at it. "Rose . . ."

She did not respond to his quiet warning. She simply leaned in further and kissed him. He blinked once, the realization that, yes, she was kissing him again taking hold of his brain. And it _was_ most certainly Rose doing the kissing this time. Her lips were warm against his. Warm and soft.

This kiss was different. It wasn't fair to compare, of course, her kiss to the kiss Cassandra had given him in Rose's body, but he couldn't help doing some comparing all the same. Cassandra's kiss had been all bold aggression tinged with desperation. Rose's kiss was . . . well, still bold, but sweet. Very sweet.

Her tongue brushed against his lower lip, and he found himself hard pressed to think of a reason why he shouldn't open his mouth to the invitation. And once he did, oh! Sweet had a new layer of definition. Rose was all sugar and candy and light rolled into one. His lips moved under hers, his own tongue brushing against hers easily, and he was beginning to think he'd decided which way he wanted to start looking at things. In fact, he was 93.7% sure that it would be a wonderful idea to pull her into his lap and snog her good and proper, damn the consequences. Then she pulled back, away from his lips, shocking him a little more by ending the kiss than she had by kissing him in the first place.

Her eyes were glazed, her lips just a little bit swollen, and she blinked twice before finding her voice. "That was me kissin' you."

He grinned, unable not to. "I know."

She smiled back, her tongue resting on the corner of her lips for a moment. "All right?"

Why wouldn't he be, he wondered? He always was with her. "'Course I am."

"Right then. Off to bed with me. Just for a bit. Don't plan out whatever it is we're doing next until I've had some sleep - promise?"

"Wouldn't dream of it." He was grinning again.

He watched her walk out of the room, his mind already whirling with possible destinations, and he couldn't stop himself from licking his lips, tasting her on them. They'd go somewhere in the 20th century next. Somewhere fun. Somewhere that would make her flash that beautiful smile at him repeatedly. His grin widened as an idea began to take form. It was going to be brilliant, their next adventure. But then . . . they always were, weren't they?

 

END 


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